


Whalesong

by UnstuckTheory



Category: Grace and Frankie (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-30
Updated: 2018-01-30
Packaged: 2019-03-11 11:33:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13523388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnstuckTheory/pseuds/UnstuckTheory
Summary: A short story focusing on Grace and Frankie. Set in early S4, after the Sheree episodes.





	Whalesong

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to [AFey](http://archiveofourown.org/users/AFey/pseuds/AFey)  
>  for introducing me to this fandom,  
>  for the late night chats,  
>  and for just generally being awesome.  
>  Keep writing!
> 
> \-------------------------------

_When you and I collide_  
_I fall into an ocean of you_  
_Pull me out in time_  
_Don't let me drown_  
_~ Bic Runga - Sway ~_

 

Binoculars scan the foggy horizon in jerky movements. Their upstairs view is unbroken across the seawall as the observer scoots excitedly from one end of the balcony to the other. Squeals of joy as the lenses steady, focusing on a single unfogged point of ocean out beyond the breakers. Leaning ever more precariously over the balcony edge the figure swings the binoculars to the left, following as a solitary gray whale breaches amongst the white caps.

Dropping the binoculars to her chest, Frankie holds her hands to her heart and lets go a contented sigh. Her skirt shifts lazily in the breeze, tickling against her skin and grounding her in the moment. Eyes closed and face lifted to the sky, she praises Frig for the breeze that had so sneakily arrived and shifted the settling fog. Without the breeze she would have completely missed that marvelous sight. It was a near miss as it was - noticing the change on the horizon, searching frantically for the binoculars and racing determinedly upstairs, straight through Grace’s bedroom and onto the balcony. Serendipitous that Grace had thought to place the binoculars in such a practical spot, on the table by the terrace doors. Such a Grace thing.

Where is Grace? She has to tell her about this right now, before the gravity of the moment fades.

“Grace! Grace! Oh, it was so beautiful! You missed it all, but I can recreate the experience for you. It was magical.” Charging through the balcony doors into Grace’s bedroom she calls, “Grace! Where are you?”

A movement on the other side of the room catches her attention. It’s Grace, wrapped in a towel and looking startled as she steps from the bathroom. Grace, with her wet hair slicked back and devoid of all makeup, legs bare and exposed.

Frankie freezes, a familiar pull in her chest suddenly sucking the words from her lips. “Oh.” It’s all she can do but look, eyes taking in every inch of the sight before her. Even after all these months living in the same house it’s a rarity to ever see Grace Hanson in such a state of undoneness. Grace’s surprised eyes fix on her, shifting quickly from startled blue to indignant slate. Oh god, snap out of it Frankie!

“Hello sailor” she drawls, with a cheeky wink. Humour will always diffuse a situation, well usually. Well, sometimes not if the situation is Grace. Okay, usually not if the situation is Grace. Maybe it will work this time though.

“WHAT are you doing in my room, Frankie?” Grace demands. Those eyes are definitely slate blue now, drilling into Frankie.

Okay, humour didn’t work so it’s time for truth, or deflection. One or the other.

“Oh Grace, it was so beautiful! There was a whale out there! A lovely gray whale. A mama whale heading south to calve. Well, a mama-to-be whale I guess.” She moves across the room towards Grace, her hands wringing together in excitement. “ It was frolicking in the waves, and it rolled - it breached, that’s the proper whale term - it breached and I could see it’s fin and it’s belly and it looked like it was just so happy to be out there in the ocean. I wish you could have seen it too Grace. A true miracle of mother nature.” Frankie stops two steps from Grace and beams, daring her to stay angry after hearing of such a momentous occurrence.

“That’s very lovely Frankie, but it still doesn’t explain why you’ve just come barging into my room” Grace parries.

“To tell you, Grace! I couldn’t let an experience like that go by without you knowing.” Frankie closes her eyes to remember again how majestic the whale had looked. Even with them closed she can feel Grace’s glare on her, but it’s softening around the edges.

“Well, do you think you can leave now so that I can get dressed?” Grace sighs. She stands stiffly, arm wrapped across her breasts holding the towel in place like a shield. This close Frankie can see the water drops still clinging to Grace’s skin. They shift with each tense breath, until a single drop slides from her collar bone and runs a slow path down to towel covered cleavage. Transfixed Frankie stares, suddenly silent.

“Frankie!” Grace yells, “Out! Now!”

“Oh, okay, “ Frankie shakes her head, clearing her thoughts enough to rally a last cheeky smile at Grace. “Let me know if you need help drying off,” She quips as she leaves the room. The door slams closed behind her.

Downstairs she rummages through a drawer in search of a specific CD. It doesn't take long to find, Grace's handiwork evident in their neat alphabetical ordering. With the CD in the player and her incense burner lit, she takes up position on the rug. The room fills with a light ambient tune, accompanied by the soft sound of whale song. Closing her eyes and swaying in position, she lets her mind drift with the music and the song. She imagines the whales moving though deep green water, calling to each other. Her arms rise and float about her head like fronds of seaweed beneath the waves, shoulders dipping and flexing as she moves. It's incredibly tranquil here on the seafloor.

+

 _My body is an ocean_  
_I'm swimming in emotion_  
_I follow every motion_  
_Holding, soaking, holding on_  
_~ Hedegaard - That’s Me ~_

 

Grace is still shaking her head at the earlier intrusion when she reaches the bottom of the stairs. Frankie’s lack of boundaries were frustrating beyond measure. If she was honest, it was a little thrilling though. The way she’d stared at her chest, how her eyes had followed her across the room like she was the most delectable thing she’d ever sighted. This was Frankie though. She was also excited by whales and chickens, and to be honest she was probably at least a little bit high already today.

Is that music? Looking towards the meditation room she sees Frankie in blissful dance. The sunlight bathes the room in warm golden beams and adds glistening highlights to Frankie's mane of hair. Her loose skirt flows around her as she moves, lapping eagerly at bare ankles. The gentle movements of her arms seem to float above her, while her face wears an expression of absolute joy. Not for the first time, Grace marvels at how flexible and lithe her friend is. And beautiful. Lost in the moment, she is absolutely glowing with a raw earthy beauty that stirs something in Grace's chest. Grace's hand moves unconsciously to her heart, pressing to secure this feeling inside, to hold back the spreading warmth.

+

 _Said we're not lovers (we're not lovers)_  
_'Cause we're just strangers_  
_With the same damn hunger_  
_To be touched, to be loved, to feel anything at all_  
_~ Halsey - Strangers ~_

As the whale song fades to an end, Frankie slows her dance. Taking three deep breaths she centers herself and slowly opens her eyes to find Grace staring back at her. Grace’s eyes seem lost and far away and her hand is clutching at her chest. “Grace, Grace, what’s happening honey? Are you okay?” Frankie cries, dashing towards her friend. Oh please, let her be okay. She grabs Grace’s arm. “Tell me Grace, what’s wrong? Is it your heart?” The seconds seem to stretch forever until Grace finally gathers herself, jerking suddenly away from Frankie’s touch. “I’m fine Frankie. I just need a drink,” she snaps, retreating to the kitchen.

A few minutes later, she’s yelling again. “Frankie! What is this mess! What on earth have you done to our kitchen this time?”

With an eye-roll and a flick of her hair, Frankie heads to the kitchen to receive today’s lecture. “It’s just paint Grace. It will come off with water, and if it doesn’t - well, that’s the price you pay for good art lady.”

Grace isn’t winding down. “Frankie, there’s bits of paper everywhere, and what’s all this sticky stuff on the counter?”

“Well, duh, it’s glue Grace. You know, the sticky stuff you use to stick stuff to other stuff.”

“Frankie, you’ve got to learn to clean up after yourself. Or at least keep all this messy stuff in your studio!”

“I can’t use the studio, there wasn’t any space this morning.” Frankie doesn’t add what she’d like to say - that for this project it had also been much nicer working in the house where she could be closer to Grace. She starts absently rubbing her sleeve at a scarlet daub of paint on the counter.

Grace pinballs around the kitchen with a wet cloth, scrubbing paint and glue off random surfaces. “Oh Frankie, you’re only spreading that further. Let me do it.”

“O-kaaay, if you insist. I’m going back to the studio where I won’t bother you any more today Miss Bossy Pants.” She exits under the glare of Grace’s pursed lips.

+

 _Caught in the riptide_  
_I was searching for the truth_  
_There was a reason_  
_I collided into you_  
_~ Susie Suh - Here With Me ~_

The day has faded into dusk and Frankie hasn’t come in from her studio yet. Grace messages her about dinner, and goes back to her book. Two chapters later, when her phone still hasn’t binged in response, she starts to feel a little concerned and goes to check on her.

A polite rap on the door yields no response. “Frankie!” she calls. “Are you there?” No answer. “Please don’t play this game, I’m starting to worry about you.” The silence stretches on. What if she’s fallen? What if she’s had another stroke! Grace tries the handle and the door is unlocked. Racing in she scans frantically for any sign of her friend. The studio is empty. Looking around she is surprised to see Frankie’s current theme. Whales and ocean scenes fill every frame and easel, the room awash in turquoise and blue. It’s a stark contrast from the recent yonic phase, although the largest canvas could easily be construed as such, whale forms interweaving into a very familiar shape.

“Where R U?”, she messages again. The message is answered by Frankie’s voice behind her, “Hey girl!” Turning in relief, she sees no one there. Instead Frankie’s phone sits forgotten on the desk, notification light flashing insistent green. Tapping the screen she sees 7 notifications, her messages and 4 missed calls from Bud. It looks like Frankie’s been out of the studio for a while.

Worriedly, she places the phone back beside the painted book Frankie has obviously been working on. Her own face looks back at her, a photo taken at sunset. The setting suns rays drench her features in gold, eyes wistfully staring out to sea. It halts her for a moment. Is it really her? Her face in the mirror never has this softness about it. Frankie has printed the photo to fill the page and collaged pieces of pink and gray and apricot around it. Painted scarlet swirls fill the gaps and add to a perfect frame of her face. So this is what all that mess in the kitchen was about.

She flips back a page and finds another collaged photo, this time a selfie of the two of them in their arm chairs. Frankie’s happy grin fills one half of the image while Grace appears over her shoulder, engrossed in a book. Back another page and it’s Grace walking on the beach. Another, Grace with Mallory and Brianna. Each page another photo - Grace sleeping, Grace reading, Grace showing off a new outfit, and predominately, Grace with Frankie. Each photo has been carefully decorated with collage and paint and odd bits of ephemera, and each page screams with Frankie’s touch. Her unique style is woven into every part of these images of their life together, turning every day moments and expressions into special memories.

Across the front cover, in large black flowing letters, Frankie has painted “Grace and Frankie”.

Grace drops abruptly into the chair. “Grace and Frankie” indeed. It’s overwhelming to see the truth of their lives laid out so honestly. How could she have missed this? All of this, all of the special moments and glances and touches. All of the “themness”.

+

 _You came into my crazy world like a cool and cleansing wave_  
_Before I, I knew what hit me baby you were flowing through my veins_  
_~ Avicii - Addicted To You ~_

It’s well past dinner time when Frankie finally traipses in from the beach. She’s smiling and windswept, and covered in a beach’s worth of sand. She finds Grace in the kitchen.

“There you are.” Grace states, trying hard to keep the tremble of relief from her voice. “You had me worried.” She casts a careful eye over Frankie’s appearance, checking for any sign of another stroke. Frankie seems fine, happy and content even.

“Oh, you didn’t need to worry. I knew you needed some space, so I went to commune with the ocean.” She breezes past Grace to the freezer and starts rummaging.

“What are you looking for in there? If you’re hungry let me make you something healthy, not that processed grease you like so much.”

“Uh-uh lady, I’m in an ice-cream mood,” Frankie announces, thumping the tub of Ben & Jerry’s down on the counter.

“Have you at least had your tablets?” Grace fusses over the medicines while Frankie busies herself piling large scoops of Caramel Almond Brittle in a bowl. “So what happened on your communing? You were gone a long time.”

Frankie regales her with a rambling story of the beach walk, people she spoke with, and their dogs, the lovely spot she found to sit and watch the waves, and how she was a little sad that she didn’t spy any more whales. As she talked her hands moved wildly, spoon and all, emphasising different points - the ball she threw for an overexcited spaniel, the size of a fish reeled in by a lone angler, the way the moon reflected off the ocean as she walked home. Which was how Grace suddenly came to be wearing a great dollop of ice-cream on her shirt. Without missing a beat Frankie leans forward and wipes the offending ice-cream off with her finger, popping it in her mouth.

Grace stands speechless, butterflies in her stomach and a flutter in her heart. Gripping the edge of the counter to ground herself, sudden thoughts tumble over each other in her mind. This can’t be right, can it? She can’t possibly be feeling what she thinks she’s feeling, can she? The Grace in Frankie’s book maybe, but not her. Not this Grace Hanson.

Frankie’s still telling her tale and has circled back around to the whales again. “Grace, do you know that whales change their song to match the other whales around them?” she asks. “It helps them fit in and make friends in new places.”

+

 _Without you, I feel broke_  
_Like I'm half of a whole_  
_Without you, I've got no hand to hold_  
_Without you, I feel torn_  
_Like a sail in a storm_  
_Without you, I'm just a sad song_  
_~ We The Kings - Sad Song ~_

After ice-cream Frankie curls up on the end of the couch beside Grace’s reading spot, burrowing into her blanket like she’s a bear ready to hibernate. “Read to me again Grace”, a quiet request. “Read me to sleep.” She prods Grace with a gentle foot before nestling further into the cushions.

Grace looks over at her, bemused. “You’re not going to ask me for a “diddle” like last time, are you?” she banters.

“Oh, I know your answer already so why bother.” Frankie quips back, eyes closed and a content smile on her lips.

“You know, what if one day I did say yes. What would you do then? I think you’d run a mile.”

“I know you Grace Hanson. It will never be a yes.” Frankie’s words hang drowsily in the air between them.

Grace stares at Frankie, all snuggled and sleepy. Would it never be a yes? Could it ever be a yes? She watches her friend’s face, that beautiful smile. The images from the art journal come back to her, how happy and content she’d looked in all those photographs with Frankie. How relaxed and how at home. Like Frankie really was her person.

That feeling in her chest crept back, a warm knowing that if all she had was Frankie for the rest of her days she could be content. Those Santa Fe days without her had been so painful. An emptiness inside her that wouldn’t be filled. And then Frankie came back and the emptiness went away. So could it ever be a yes? She needed to know. She also needed to know if Frankie meant her little flirts, or if it was all just a silly game.

Placing the book down she eased along the edge of the couch beside Frankie’s relaxed form.

“Frankie.” So soft that she was sure Frankie wouldn’t hear it. Those sparkling blue eyes opened though, looking up at her with equal contentedness and mischief.

“Here for your diddle, Grace?” Frankie teases.

Before she can think or back out, Grace is aiming for Frankie’s lips. Eyes locked, searching desperately for some sign of panic or repulsion on Frankie’s face. It doesn’t come. Frankie’s eyes soften, their lips meeting in a chaste kiss that lasts for far too few seconds.

“Grace.” Frankie breathes, and the way she says her name answers all the questions Grace has. She feels Frankie’s hands move to hold her, her own hands mirroring each move. Frankie rises gently to meet her, to pull her closer. And she knows she wants this, all of this. The closeness, the touch, the passion. The knowledge that this person knows her, and sees her, and is truly there for her. The other half of her whole. Their lips open to each other, tentatively seeking connection, and together they fall.


End file.
